


Pinky Toes and Pirozhki

by rxallura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Viktor thinks he's funny, Viktor with a K, Yuuri sometimes thinks he's funny, no actual feet were touched, not a foot fetish though, pinky toe prompt I saw on tumblr, pirozhki, random smol angry!son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxallura/pseuds/rxallura
Summary: In which Viktor makes a joke, Yuuri takes the challenge, and Yuri is scarred for life.--This is based off a post by isvikgayoreuropean that I saw on tumblr and which he graciously let me use!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of this, only the way it's presented. 
> 
> Original post:
> 
> Victor: You remind me of my pinky toe because--  
> Yuuri: I'm small and always in pain?  
> Victor: --I'm going to bang you on all the furniture in the house.  
> Yuuri:  
> Yuuri: oh
> 
> from @isvikgayoreuropean on tumblr
> 
> Thank you for reading!

_How can anything be this beautiful?_ Yuuri thinks as he stares out of the house’s wall of floor to ceiling windows, and down at the familiar sight of his castle-town home. The view is amazing in their new place; his and Viktor’s. It's one of the reasons that they chose to settle in the former vacation home: because they both love the way Hasetsu sprawls beneath their mountain; the way the sun glitters on the water far off at the beach. Yuuri’s fingers ghost along the window as he traces an outline of the town, stopping to hover momentarily over his parents’ bathhouse and the Ice Castle Hasetsu. The setting sun bathes the whole town in a warm orange light, and Yuuri is grateful for the chance to see it. He's entranced by the sight, so much so that he jumps as a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist and interrupt his reverie.

“Viktor!” Yuuri laughs through his surprise, his tone a poor attempt at scolding. “Don't sneak up on me like that!” Viktor doesn't respond at first; just settles his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder and nuzzles his face against the column of his fiancé’s neck, sighing contentedly as he does.

“What can I say?” Viktor teases, placing a kiss to Yuuri’s jaw. “I like the element of surprise.” Yuuri hums in response, leaning back against his lover’s chest. Viktor squeezes him, an apology spilling from his lips. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. The triplets are harder to keep in check than I thought they would be,” he explains, “but they can’t wait to see you next session! I told them you were finishing the unpacking.” He cranes his neck from side to side, surveying the room. “Did you get everything put away while I was gone?”

“Mhmm,” Yuuri nods, “we’re finally moved in, Vitya.” He turns his head and catches Viktor’s lips in a quick kiss; sighing happily as they separate and his hands come to rest atop Viktor’s. “Now, we can relax.”

For several minutes, they stand admiring the way the town lights up as the sun dips out of view. It’s quiet and comfortable, and Yuuri would be happy to spend his whole night exactly as they are. But Viktor has other plans. He chuckles to himself and tightens his arms around Yuuri’s middle, breaking the silence.

“Hey Yuuri,” he says, humor coloring his words. “Do you know what you remind me of?” Yuuri shakes his head, tilting it back to look at him. Viktor’s eyes light up as he grins. “You remind me of my pinky toe!” Yuuri’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but he _thinks_ he gets it.

“Because I’m small and always in pain?”

“Because,” Viktor corrects, his words blunt as ever, “I’m going to bang you on all the furniture in the house!” He laughs, clearly delighted with himself. Yuuri however, is caught between facepalming and blushing, so he does both as Viktor twists around to stand in front of him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Yuuri mumbles beneath his hands. He slides them down his face as if he’s exasperated by Viktor’s bad joke, but it’s all for show. He _likes_ where this is going, and a small smile accompanies the blush on his cheeks.

“You love it,” Viktor purrs, closing the distance between them. His hands come to rest on Yuuri’s sides as their lips meet, soft and sweet. Yuuri grabs at Viktor’s biceps to steady himself and they set a comfortable pace, tasting and teasing one another until Viktor just can't wait anymore. He draws out of their kiss; runs his tongue along Yuuri’s bottom lip before replacing tongue with teeth. He pulls lightly at the swollen flesh, knowing full well that it drives his partner crazy.

“Vitya-” Yuuri groans, rubbing his thighs together. He drops his head to the side as Viktor shifts his focus, trailing hot, wet kisses across his jaw and down the side of his neck. Viktor’s fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and they disappear underneath it as he sucks a mark on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Wait,” Yuuri whispers, separating himself from Viktor. His movements are sloppy with distraction as he backs up, and it takes him a few frantic moments to get his sweatshirt over his head and another to toss it onto the couch behind him. Viktor smirks as Yuuri takes the few steps back to him, his cheeks a bit pinker than before.

“A little eager are we?” He asks, voice teasing as their gazes meet again.

“Your fault,” Yuuri shoots back. He reaches for Viktor’s sweater, eyes dark and hungry, bottom lip caught between his teeth. With a quick “up,” he pulls the shirt off, disrupting Viktor’s carefully styled hair in the process. Laughing at the pout that incites, Yuuri steps even closer, desperate to get his hands on Viktor’s body. He runs them across the broad, muscled chest in front of him; drags a finger down Viktor’s abs, smiling as the muscles contract and Viktor breathes in deep in front of him.

“Yuuri,” he murmurs, his lover’s fingers tugging at the tie to his sweats. Viktor knows what Yuuri’s doing; knows that if he doesn’t stop him now, Yuuri will be on his knees in seconds and his plan will be ruined. Even so, the thought of Yuuri sucking him off makes the blood rush to his half hard cock, and for a second he considers giving in. He doesn't though, as much as he may want to. This night is about both of them; is about having fun together. That's what matters, so Viktor shakes his head, grabbing at Yuuri’s wrists before he can get his hands under his waistband. He brushes his thumbs against the inside of them, Yuuri’s heartbeat a quick thrum beneath his fingers. “My turn, love,” he says, and drops down to his knees.

Above him, Yuuri groans, leaning forward to place his palms on the window as the blush returns to his cheeks. It still surprises him from time to time; still takes his breath away that Viktor, _Viktor Nikiforov of all people_ , wants him. It thrills him too; makes him feel powerful and attractive in a way he never really has outside of skating. He straddles the line, caught between these feelings of power and adoration as Viktor stares up at him, eyes half-lidded in arousal, hands running up and down Yuuri’s clothed thighs. He's wearing warm up pants, and the fabric swishes noisily as Viktor slides them down his legs, revealing a black silk thong that hugs Yuuri exactly as it should.

Viktor moans at the sight and leans forward, mouthing at Yuuri’s cock through the soft fabric. He stops only when Yuuri begins to whimper, making desperate little thrusts against the warmth of Viktor's mouth. Viktor chuckles to himself as he takes mercy on him, slipping the thong down over the swell of Yuuri’s ass, off one ankle, then the other. Yuuri’s cock is flushed and hard in front of him, and Viktor wastes no time, dipping down to lick a stripe from balls to tip that has Yuuri hissing through his teeth. He wraps one hand around the back of Yuuri’s thigh and the other around the base of his cock, holding him still as he opens his mouth to take Yuuri in as far as he will go. Viktor holds him there for a few seconds, breathing through his nose as he stares up at Yuuri, whose fingers flex against the glass he leans on. Viktor pulls up and his hand follows, twisting along Yuuri’s spit-slicked cock and down again. He settles at the head, licking at the bead of pre-cum that sits there. It's sweet and a tease and Viktor wants more, so he covers Yuuri's tip with his whole mouth and sucks.

“Viktor, it's getting-ah,” Yuuri gasps as Viktor swirls his tongue around the tip of his cock. His fingers flex against the window, smudging it further. “It’s getting dirty.” Viktor hums around him and pulls off his cock with a ‘pop’ that sends a shiver up Yuuri’s spine.

“That was the plan _,”_ Viktor says, and lowers his head to tease at Yuuri’s sac. He finds a spot that makes Yuuri jerk; takes advantage of unexpected ticklishness by going at it again as he twists his hand along the slick length of him.

Yuuri’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he huffs out a laugh and his hands drop from the window to settle in Viktor’s hair. He bites his lip and presses his thumb against Viktor’s cowlick to get back at him, then shudders as his fiancé retaliates by licking along the sensitive crease of his pelvis. “I was--I was talking about the window, you goof.”

“How can you think about the window-,” Viktor pauses, voice low as he peppers kisses to the stretch marks that crisscross Yuuri’s hips, “-when I’m on my knees for you?” He nips at the juncture of his lover’s thighs, first one side, then the other, to make his point. Yuuri shrieks in protest as he twists away from him and back towards their couch to hide.

“I’m sorry, Vitya! I’m sorry!” He shouts with a peal of laughter, the couch a plush grey barrier between them. Viktor narrows his eyes at him, but smiles as he goes to stand. It's only when he straightens up that Yuuri notices Viktor’s erection, a small wet circle forming where the tip of it strains against his sweatpants. He stares intently at it as Viktor comes to stand in front of him.

“Is that so?” Viktor murmurs, reaching his thumb up to pull at Yuuri’s bottom lip. “And how are you going to make it up to me?” Yuuri drags his gaze up from Viktor’s pants and bites at his finger. He hops up onto the back of the couch and reaches out with his hands, wiggling his fingers to coax Viktor to him. He comes willingly, smiling as Yuuri pushes both his sweats and briefs down his hips and to the floor. Viktor kicks them away, grateful that they’re both _finally_ naked.

“I do have one idea,” Yuuri supplies as he leans back, his head hitting the seat cushion. He pulls his knees against his chest so that his ass is level with the back of the couch. Viktor can't see his face, but he doesn't need to to know there's a smirk on it. “Though you'll have to prep me first.”

Surprise colors Viktor’s features as Yuuri balances himself; his ass up and presented for Vitya like a gift. It’s _just for him_ , soft and round, and he must zone out because a few moments later he hears Yuuri call his name, wiggling his ass to get Viktor’s attention. It does, and Viktor notices a touch of uncertainty in Yuuri’s voice, as if he’s afraid he’s being to bold or something ridiculous like that. “Earth to Viktor,” he says trying to mask the hesitation, “I thought you were going to-what was it? Bang me on all the furniture?” He blushes as he speaks, and Viktor’s heart flips in his chest at that; makes him desperate to reassure Yuuri that he doesn’t have to be anxious, that he never has to be anxious with him. He steps forward, placing a hand on each of Yuuri’s hamstrings. “You're right, I'm sorry _lyubov moya,_ I lost myself for a moment.”

Yuuri hums at the endearment, relaxing as Viktor massages his muscles in soft circles. He feels a bit embarrassed for being anxious, but it fades as Viktor sets to work. He dips down, platinum fringe grazing Yuuri’s leg while he sucks a mark onto the back of his thigh. He finishes on one side then moves to the other; twin spots of purple decorating Yuuri’s skin. Viktor takes his time; plays with him by alternating bites and licks everywhere but where Yuuri really wants it. He continues until Yuuri growls in frustration and twitches his hips; his cock red and dripping where it presses hard against his stomach. “Enough teasing Vitya, please.” It’s nearly a whine, and while he’d normally prefer to prolong this, drawing every sound he can out of Yuuri, Viktor can’t help but give him what he wants. He wraps his hands around the backs of his lover’s thighs to still them, and buries his face between Yuuri’s cheeks. Viktor licks and sucks at his hole; gets it sloppy and wet while the younger man’s moans become desperate. “Vitya-” he begs, “more please!”

“You want my fingers Yuuri?” Viktor asks, voice rumbling. “Want me to open you up?” Yuuri whimpers and Viktor takes that as a yes. He begins with his index finger; circles it around Yuuri’s hole before sliding it easily inside. His middle finger follows a moment later, and below him, Yuuri sighs satisfied at the addition. Yuuri tries not to move, though his position doesn't exactly allow for much movement anyway. All he wants is to fuck back against Viktor’s fingers, and he knows it. Viktor crooks his fingertips expertly, dragging them against Yuuri’s prostate in a way that has Yuuri’s toes curling and a loud moan falling from his lips. Viktor adds a third finger for good measure and thrusts slowly in and out of the puckered flesh, spit making the movement nice and easy. He’s only allowed a few minutes to work his fingers before Yuuri’s hand catches his wrist and squeezes it, his voice low and sure as he speaks.

“I want your cock, Vitya,” and that's all Viktor needs to hear before he's lacing their fingers together and yanking Yuuri up towards him. Yuuri’s eyes are wide as he tips off the couch and into Viktor’s arms. Viktor’s neglected cock is warm against his own, but it disappears quickly as the he turns him and bends him face first over the back of their couch. He drapes himself over Yuuri’s back and leans in, breath hot against Yuuri’s ear.

“Stay here.” Yuuri nods in response, and Viktor drops a kiss to his shoulder, disappearing. He comes back with lube, flicking it open to drizzle over Yuuri’s hole. He spreads a bit over himself, then presses the tip of his cock against Yuuri. He circles it around the ring of muscle to spread the precome that's gathered at the tip, then finally, _finally_ pushes in. It's hot, and tight and they both moan loudly as Viktor buries himself to the hilt. He pauses, allowing Yuuri to get used to being so full; not that it’s necessary really, Yuuri loves slight sting that accompanies the stretch of his body around Viktor’s length. His fingers dig into the couch cushions below him as he pushes his hips back against the Viktor’s in a silent encouragement. Viktor grinds into him from behind and hums against Yuuri’s nape. The pace he sets is slow and easy; a comfortable motion that keeps them from rushing to the finish line. Viktor doesn’t have Yuuri’s stamina, but by no means is he going to let the night end early. He's sticking to his silly little plan if it kills him.

And stick to it he does.

He rolls his hips into Yuuri’s, slow and smooth against the couch until Yuuri reaches back and pats at his thigh; giving him the go ahead. Viktor slides himself out of Yuuri’s body with a grin and then they’re off, fucking on any and every piece of furniture they can. They stumble together around the first floor, all bright smiles and rushed kisses as they bounce from piece to piece. They pause on certain things, like the chaise lounge where Yuuri throws Viktor down and rides him as hard and fast as he can. Or the side table in the entryway that’s too small for Yuuri’s ass, but Viktor fucks him on it anyway. They’re sweaty and sticky, and the glass vase on it shifts precariously as Viktor rocks his hips into Yuuri’s. Their eyes meet in the mirror above the table, and Yuuri laughs, wrapping his arms around the vase to keep it safe.

After a few minutes, Viktor pulls away panting and Yuuri walks happily towards the stairs. Viktor’s game has grown on him, and he’s eager for the next part of it: the second floor, where the bedrooms are full of sturdy furniture for them to fuck on. Yuuri feels a twinge of guilt as Viktor walks to stand next to him, panting lightly as he drops his sweaty head on Yuuri's shoulder. He can’t even bring himself to look up the stairs.

“Your stamina,” he says in between deep breaths, “is ridiculous.” Yuuri smiles and turns to weave his arms around Viktor’s waist. Viktor stares down at him with a horribly fake pout and Yuuri can’t stop the snort that escapes him. He drops his chin against Viktor’s chest, and looks up with a smirk.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not.”

Viktor chuckles, kissing Yuuri’s nose.

“I’m not either. But I’m an old man Yuuri, I think I'll drop dead if we go up there. Mind if we finish down here?” Viktor asks, twitching his cock against Yuuri’s stomach. To his delight, Yuuri takes pity on him, nodding as he spits on his hand and reaches between them to spread the slickness up Viktor's shaft.

“You're not _that_ old Vitya. We'll stay down here okay?”

Viktor hums and Yuuri steps back, taking control. The game is more his now than Viktor’s anyway, so he taps his finger against his chin and scans the room for their next target.

“Where to, little katsudon?” Viktor leans down and nips at Yuuri’s shoulder, still sweaty but breathing much easier than before. When Yuuri doesn’t answer right away, he offers up a suggestion of his own. “How about the island counter?”

“Nope.”

“Why not? It's a surface.” Viktor asks, stroking his cock as Yuuri gives him a pointed stare.

“Yes but it's not _furniture_ , Vitya.”

“Well the chabudai is the only piece of furniture left down here and we’re too heavy for it.” Yuuri sighs, then acquiesces.

“That’s true,” he agrees, grabbing Viktor’s hand. “Come on, counter it is.” Yuuri walks a few steps, then stops, spinning to jab his figure into Viktor’s chest. “But you’re cleaning it when we’re done.”  

The countertop is cold as Yuuri bends himself over it. It’s juxtaposed to the warmth at his back, lovely and constant as Viktor drapes himself over Yuuri and presses himself inside. He tilts his hips, and after a few tries, finds the right angle; the one that drags right across Yuuri’s prostate and makes the smaller man weak in the knees. Yuuri moans as Viktor hits the spot again and again, first slow and deep, then fast and hard. His body buckles slightly with each thrust, but Viktor is there every second; one of his arms wrapped securely around Yuuri’s waist while the other hovers near the tip of Yuuri’s cock. The staircase is the last thing Yuuri sees before he closes his eyes and comes into Viktor’s waiting hand. A few thrusts and Viktor’s right behind him, moaning low as he spills into the tight heat of Yuuri’s body. He lies over him protectively, and even though he’s heavy and sweaty, Yuuri doesn’t tell him to move. Instead, he pulls Viktor’s clean hand up to his mouth and kisses his palm.

They stay like that for a few moments; their minds happy and hazy, until a loud, disgusted noise breaks the silence. Yuuri jerks his head up to find Yuri at the bottom of the stairs, earbuds tucked into his ears and eyes wide in shock. He looks so much like a deer in headlights that Yuuri wants to laugh, except he’s horrified and embarrassed and all he can do is stammer out a string of unintelligible words as he tries to extract himself from situation. Viktor however, has no such issue, and practically shouts at the stunned teenager.

“Oh, hello Yurio!” He calls, a wide, oblivious smile decorating his face. Yuri doesn’t respond, just shakes his head and turns towards the front door with a scowl. Yuuri breathes out a sigh a relief, while Viktor calls out to the teen’s retreating form. “Hey! Where are you going? It’s almost dinner time!”

Yuri’s sharp, angry voice echoes in the hallway as he responds. “I’m going out!” Viktor detaches himself from Yuuri, who mumbles something about Otabek and a visit, and shuffles naked towards the kitchen doorway, wiping at his hand with a paper towel. _Ah yes,_ he remembers now. He leans around the corner, careful to keep his lower half hidden as he watches Yuri rip open the front door.

“Tell Otabek we say hello! And don’t be home late!” Viktor smiles, even as the door slams so hard it knocks a hanging picture of Makkachin off-balance. He turns back into the kitchen, his smile spreading into a big, amused grin. Yuuri’s still behind the island when Viktor turns, his cheeks pink in embarrassment as he hides his face in his hands.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget Yurio was home?”

Yuuri’s answering groan is long and miserable, and Viktor chuckles as he crosses the room to pull Yuuri into a tight hug. He kisses Yuuri’s temple and rubs reassuringly at his back. Yuuri spends a few minutes enjoying the embrace, then pushes Viktor away. He leans down, opens the cabinet under the sink and pulls out some cleaner, shoving it into Viktor’s arms. He stands on his tiptoes and presses a quick kiss to Viktor’s lips. “Get to work, Nikiforov. I’ve got apology pirozhki to make.”


End file.
